


The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: Felicity Smoak left MIT intent on erasing her past. After six years away, she is forced to relive it.





	1. Chapter 1

Oliver glanced up from Felicity’s computer screen as he heard the door open and her heels clicking down the stairs. She frowned when she noticed him. “You’re in my chair. And you’re touching my computers.” She looked at Diggle across the room and narrowed her eyes at him. “I told you not to let him do that anymore.” She whined.

Oliver sighed, throwing a glare at her. “We have a problem. Someone attacked Laurel last night.”

“Oh my god,” Felicity said, stepping towards them. “Is she okay?” She asked, taking her coat off. “What happened?”

“His name is Lonnie Machin.” Oliver explained.

 Felicity froze. 

“He tried to grab Laurel when she was coming out of the courthouse. He said that Laurel could help him find something.” Oliver stared at the screen, “But I need to find him first.” Felicity still hadn’t moved but he didn’t notice, tapping away at the keys. “I was hoping you could work your magic, Felicity, and get me some information on him.” Oliver huffed, annoyed at the computers that he still struggled to operate. “Laurel got away, but she’s a little bit banged up. She’s staying with her dad until we can locate Machin.”

“Felicity?” Diggle asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he stepped towards her. Her purse hung in her frozen hand where she was about to drop it on the table. She stared at Oliver, her eyes wide and vacant. Dig’s tone made Oliver glance up at him, and then at Felicity. They both moved toward her. “Felicity, what is it?”

Her head felt a little lighter, probably because she hadn’t taken a breath since she heard his name. Her gaze fell to the screen as Oliver stood up, a picture of Lonnie Machin displayed on the monitor. “I know what he’s looking for.” She whispered, unable to pry her eyes away from the face that had haunted her dreams for years.

Oliver and John shared a look, and then Diggle was blocking her view of the photo, his face right in front of hers. “Hey,” he mumbled, taking her face in his hands. “Hey, look at me. Look at me, Felicity.” Her blurry vision focused on Dig’s eyes, and she inhaled deeply. “Breathe.” he said softly, taking a breath in himself. She released hers as he did. 

She took one more deep breath for good measure, and then she looked at Oliver. “He’s looking for me.” She mumbled, water filling her eyes. Oliver cocked his head to the side in confusion, and John’s hands froze where they were on her face. She glanced back and forth between them, trying to blink away the tears. “He’s looking for me.” She whispered. “He found me.”

Diggle led her to her chair and guided her to sit down. Oliver knelt down in front of her. “Who is he, Felicity?”

“I dated him my freshman year of college.” She said, her eyes flickering back to the screen. “He’s…he’s a psychopath.” she said, biting her lip. “I went out with him twice. And then he started showing up everywhere I went. I’d see him when I walked to class, when I came home, at my favorite coffee shop. He would just watch me. And I tried to ignore him.” She sniffled, her voice breaking, “I didn’t want it to be real. I tried to ignore it. I told myself there was no way that it was happening.”

“He was stalking you.” Oliver said, his voice tightening, his eyes growing dark and violent. 

“He followed me around for weeks. But he never touched me or even tried to speak to me. I went to Campus Police but they said that if the most of  _my_ problems was a kid who ‘happened’ to be in the same place as me, then that was the least of  _their_ problems.”

Oliver’s brows pushed together. “They didn’t help you?”

“Not until three months later. Lonnie finally talked to me. I was running late for class, but I needed coffee before dealing with Mr. Gilbert’s lecture, because it was literally the most boring class of my college career and caffeine was an essential part of my survival that semester, and every semester, actually-”

“Felicity.”

“Right. I was behind schedule. And I think that made Lonnie on edge. When I came out of the coffee shop, he was on the street. He asked me where I’d been. He said he’d been worried about me and told me never to do something like that again.”

Oliver put a hand on her knee. “What happened?”

Felicity sighed, “I told him that he was crazy. He got upset. He started yelling at me. Calling me a whore, screaming that I was all he had, that he’d given me everything and I was a heartless bitch for taking it all. He pinned me against the wall on Fifth Ave, where six different witnesses called the police.”

“And that was the last time you saw him?” John asked.

Felicity shook her head, and Oliver’s hand tightened on her knee. “I went to class, and then I went to my friend’s dorm room. I didn’t want to be alone, but I told myself to suck it up. I had an early morning, none of my things, and I needed sleep. So I went back to my house. The police were looking for him and told me that he was probably miles away from town…they thought for sure that he was spooked out of town. They underestimated his obsession. And so did I.” Felicity lifted her shoulder, her eyes brimming with tears again. “He was waiting for me in the dark.”

She heard Oliver’s breath hitch, John’s grumbled threat. She slammed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to look at them when she told them the rest. “He had a knife. I managed to hide from him for almost an hour before the cops showed up.” 

“You found a way to call them?” Dig asked.

She sighed, “No. The neighbors heard me screaming.”

Felicity stood, keeping her eyes closed and feeling Oliver’s body inches from hers. “Screaming?” Oliver asked, his voice low. Felicity took a deep breath. She lifted her shirt up and opened her eyes, needing to see their reaction. 

John and Oliver both glanced down to her stomach. Diggle swore, putting his hands on his head and stepping away. Oliver kept his reaction more controlled. His eyes lingered on her bare stomach, his jaw tensing and his shoulders growing stiff. His eyes trailed back up to hers and all she saw was pure rage staring back at her. “ _He_ did this to you?” Oliver asked through his teeth, gesturing to Machin’s picture.

Felicity swallowed and nodded once. “When I woke up in the hospital, it took me months to recover physically. And twice as long to recover mentally and emotionally. But even as the doctors told me that I was healed, even as the therapists and the shrinks cleared me to return to my normal life…these eight scars were a huge blow to my self-esteem. They were a constant reminder of him.” Felicity glanced at her computers, “I hated myself almost as much as I hated him.”

Both of the men watched her for a long moment. “Why didn’t I find anything about this when I did a background check on you?” Oliver asked.

Felicity sighed, “I erased it all from any records tied to my name. He still has a criminal record, but I wanted to forget. I spent the rest of my time at MIT being the girl who almost got murdered by a psychopath. I didn’t want to be known as that girl anymore. So I moved out here…I changed everything about myself, and I pretended it never happened. It works. Until I look at these scars.”

“Felicity…” Oliver took her hand that she hadn’t known she’d been gripping her stomach with. He shook his head slightly, like he wanted to say a handful of things but wouldn’t let any of them out.

She forced a smile, “Or until he comes to town and tries to hurt your friend’s ex-girlfriend to find you.” Felicity pulled her hand out of Oliver’s, pulling her shirt down and sitting in her chair. She cleared her throat and started her process of finding him. “Luckily for us, I hacked into every police station within a fifty mile radius from Starling, Vegas, and Cambridge, and set up red flag alerts if Machin causes any trouble. He’s been laying low ever since my attack. Or he found a new place. I haven’t gotten a hit off of him since his arrest.”

“How can we find him now?”

“I’ll look through security footage from the courthouse and see if I can find out where he went after Laurel scared him off. And then I’ll find his bank information to see if we can find out what he’s planning.”

Oliver nodded, leaning over her chair to watch the monitors. “Felicity,” he started hesitantly. She kept at her task, not turning to look at him. “What happened to Machin, after he…”

She glanced at him now. Then she sighed, keeping her eyes on his. “I got revenge, Oliver. I put him on the No-Fly list. I got him onto the Most Wanted list. I made it impossible for him to find a good job, or buy a house, and then I drained his bank accounts and took everything he had. I ruined his life.”

Oliver nodded seriously. He put his hand on her shoulder, “Good.”

* * *

“Are you sure that this is where Machin is?” Oliver asked, his green hood and arrows in place as he stalked through the abandoned warehouse.

“Yes,” Felicity said in his ear. “The traffic cameras show him turning the corner of Broadway and then he disappears. It’s the only place he could have gone.”

“I hear something.” Oliver said. She could hear his uneven breath as he began to run. “John, second floor.”

“On it.” John started to run too, and Felicity closed her eyes as she listened to their footsteps pounding up the stairs. She held on tightly to her desk. “He’s on the roof,” Diggle mumbled, his voice low. “I saw him running up there.”

“I’ll be there in one minute.” Oliver huffed, his footsteps moving faster. 

There was a pause, the only sounds coming from Oliver’s feet. “John?” Felicity asked.

“Diggle, wait for me.” Oliver demanded. He rushed up the steps to the roof, his bow raised. “Lonnie Machin.” Oliver growled, seeing the man they’d been trying to find for three days. Machin stared right through Oliver, a knife at John’s throat.

“Drop the knife.” Oliver said harshly. “Or I will put you down.”

“Where is Felicity Smoak?” Machin seethed, sending shivers up Felicity’s spine. She hadn’t heard his voice since he was pleading with her to come out of her hiding spot in her closet at MIT. 

“Machin,” Oliver said through his teeth, “I promise you…you will  _never_ lay a hand on Felicity Smoak again. You will never even  _look_ at her.”

Machin laughed, and Oliver aimed his arrow at his forehead, right between the eyes. “I’ll find her. I know I must be close if even the vigilantes are coming out to play.”

“This is over!” Oliver yelled, “Drop it!”

“Not. Until. I. Have.  _Her_.” 

“Stay away from Felicity.” Oliver growled.

Lonnie Machin cocked his head to the side, “You’re fond of her, are you, archer?” Oliver clenched his jaw, waiting for the right moment to shoot. Machin laughed again, a deranged, unstable sound, “I can’t blame you. Felicity is a special girl. I miss her…I bet she’s just dying to see me again, too. Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Machin smirked, and Oliver fired an arrow at his head. Machin dodged, ducking behind John. Then in one swift motion, as Oliver reloaded his bow, Machin sunk his knife into Diggle’s chest. 

Oliver fired three more arrows as he ran towards his friend and Machin ran towards the edge of the roof. Diggle gripped his chest, holding onto the base of the knife where Machin had pushed the whole blade through. “Go!” He yelled at Oliver.

With John being conscious, Oliver ran to the ledge of the building as Machin climbed it. 

Without hesitation, he threw himself over the edge. he held his arms out and jumped, soaring off the building and towards the ground. It was too foggy on the rooftop to see where Machin landed, and Oliver sighed. 

Rushing back over to John, he was relieved to note exactly where the blade had landed. Not in the heart. That was all that could matter at the moment. “Ready?” Oliver asked, knowing that John would understand.

“Do it.” Dig said, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw. 

Oliver grabbed the knife and pulled it out, immediately applying pressure to the wound. “We need to get you patched up.”

“No. You need to go.”

“Where?” Oliver asked, holding on to John’s wound. He flinched in pain.

“Felicity!”

“Machin just hurled himself off a building, John.”

“Oliver.” Diggle seethed, “Do you really think Machin would jump if he didn’t have a safe place to land? Go! Find Felicity!”

Oliver hesitated. “I need to get you to a hospital before you bleed out!”

“Call the police on your way! Tell them that you saw a mugging on the roof. Just  _go_!”

Oliver nodded once, pressing the button that Felicity added to his suit, “Felicity?” He asked. When he didn’t get an answer, he felt his heart rate pick up. “Felicity, are you there?”

Cursing, Oliver checked on Dig one more time, seeing that he was applying pressure himself and still conscious, he took off towards the foundry. He called for an ambulance for Diggle, and then he called Felicity over and over until he was running down the stairs. “Felicity!” He screamed, his eyes darting around the empty room. 

Nothing looked out of place. Even her things were gone. Her chair was pushed in. Her monitors black as if she’d shut them off for the night. Oliver took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He had one split second where he let himself hope that she had just gone home. But he knew her. She would never leave in the middle of a mission like that; not with the people she cares about on top of a roof trying to catch the man who’d hurt her. 

He slammed his fists into the table. The worst part was that he didn’t know what to do next. He’d spent so long demanding that he was alone…when he’d never actually been. But standing there, without John and without Felicity…he felt lonely for the first time since he’d met them. Truly alone. For the first time, he felt lost. And he had to fight the knot in his stomach telling him that something very bad was about to happen.

* * *

She opened her eyes to straps on her hands, her vision hazy. The only light in the dank smelling room came from a dim lamp in the corner. “Well hello there, Sleeping Beauty. You had quite a nap. Must have needed it after all that  _socializing_ you do with the Hood and his buddy. Don’t you know that you could do better than that? I know what a fighter you are, Felicity. You deserve someone who can keep up with you, someone who can challenge you.”

“Where am I?”

“It should have been me. You ran away. You ruined my life. And I only loved you so much more for that.”

“You tried to kill me!” Felicity yelled, yanking at the bands that restrained her. “You deserved everything I did to you and so much more. I should have made sure that you spent the rest of your life rotting in a jail cell.”

Machin smiled, “I love your passion for me.”

Felicity scoffed, “You’re sick.”

“That’s what they keep telling me!” He sang, “But I feel great. That’s the perk of being criminally insane; no jail cells, just psych wards.” He rolled his eyes, “Therapy, and medications, and doctors, and blah blah blah.”

Felicity glared at him, “Let me go.”

“I don’t like the blonde hair on you, Felicity. I preferred you in college. You had this…darkness about you. It drew me to you.” He shrugged, “Anyway, I expect your boyfriend will be looking for you, so let’s get to it.”

Machin stepped towards her and she flinched. Taking the hem of her shirt, he lifted it to her chest. He inhaled, closing his eyes before leaning in to examine her scars. “I’ve pictured this every night since we lost each other. I imagined most of it healed,” he glanced up at her, offering her a twisted smile, “But I knew I’d left some reminders of me.”

Felicity spat at his face. 

Machin froze, and then he wiped the spit from his forehead and cheek. “Just as ruthless as ever, Felicity. Fearless! I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.” He looked back down at her scars. “Now,” he said, pulling out a knife from his back pocket. “Let’s make some new memories.”

“Lonnie…Lonnie, please,” Felicity said, shying away from him as much as she could. “I can help you. I can get you the help that you need.”

“Oh, no Felicity. Nothing can help me! They tried and they tried to fix me…to convince me that our love wasn’t real. But I never gave up on you. I’ve been dreaming about this for six years.” He toyed with the knife in his hands, “Now let me remind you why I was better to you than The Hood ever was. I feel sorry for him really. I was your first love! And you know what they say. You never forget your first love.”

Felicity took a deep breath. “He’ll find you. And when he does,  _you’ll_ be the one I feel sorry for.”

Lonnie pressed his knife against her stomach, drawing a new line, and Felicity screamed. It was shallow and long, a different pain than her previous scars, which were small, deep stabs. Sometimes when she really got herself worked up, she could still feel the pain of it, right where the scars still were. She glanced down at herself, seeing her blood dripping down her skin and staining her skirt. She felt her vision getting blurry, her head feeling light and she cried, trying to plead with him to stop.

He smiled at her, “I’ve missed that sound.” 

Felicity tried to catch her breath. 

“Isn’t this the part where you tell me that your boyfriend is going to kill me for this?” He asked, smug as he stared at the knife, covered in her blood.

Felicity narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain on her body. “No. I’m going to kill you myself, Lonnie.”

Machin stepped closer, staring into her eyes. She refused to look away, despite the countless nightmares that his cold, psychotic stare had caused. He held his finger up to her, “Pinky swear?”


	2. Chapter 2

Sharpening his arrows wasn't doing anything to help him stay calm. Diggle was patched up and brooding as he stared at the far wall. Oliver wasn't sure how to find her, not without  _her_  skills. He didn't know the first thing about locating criminals or hacking into security cameras. He'd already sent out a distress call to Amanda Waller, knowing that A.R.G.U.S could find Felicity in a matter of minutes. It wasn't looking like he was going to find help from Waller, though. Their favors were scarce, and he knew she'd demand something in return that would chip away at his soul even more.

But it was Felicity.

Waller was taking her sweet time getting back to him, time that he didn't have. He was only getting more agitated each moment that passed.

He couldn't stop picturing the scars that Felicity had shown them. She had eight, and he'd recognized them, similar to some of his own. He knew exactly how it felt to feel a knife penetrate your body. It was a pain that Felicity never should have known. The fact that she was who she was after an experience like that...he'd felt something stirring as he'd looked at her.

Pride.

He'd already known how strong she was, but he had a new appreciation. A new understanding of just  _how_  strong she was. How capable she was. Her fearlessness made a lot more sense now. She'd already been through hell, and she wanted to prevent other people from that kind of pain. To say that he connected with that would be an understatement. He was  _living_  for that same reason.

"Anything from Waller?" John asked, cracking his knuckles, as irritable as he felt. Oliver shook his head. "We can't just sit and do nothing. She's been gone for almost eight hours."

Oliver's eyes darkened as he stared at his arrows, imagining the things that Machin could have done to Felicity in that time. "I don't know what to do, John. We've exhausted every possibility we could think of."

Diggle nodded, clenching his fist. "There has to be something we're missing. Machin must have had help. He couldn't have been on that roof with us and kidnapping Felicity at the same time. He had a partner."

"From the records that Felicity pulled, it doesn't look like Machin is the kind to play well with others. Maybe hired someone. And we both know that this town is crawling with criminals who wouldn't mind kidnapping a person for some extra cash. Machin probably paid someone to do the job and deliver her to wherever he is." Oliver shook his head, knowing that finding that person would take way too long.

John sighed, scraping his hands over his face, "If Felicity was here, she'd be hacking into his bank accounts to figure out if he's transferred any money. She'd be thinking up some kind of crazy, brilliant way to find his hideout."

Oliver offered a sad, small smile, "I know she would."

"We gotta find her, Oliver."

He sighed, "I know we do. I'll hit the streets again and see if there's anyone who's seen Machin and might know where he is. You sit tight and call me  _as soon_  as Waller gets back to me." 

John just nodded, glaring at the computer screen like it was Amanda Waller herself.

Oliver moved towards his suit, mustering up enough energy to beat the information he needed out of Starling's finest crooks. He knew that finding whoever helped Machin was next to impossible. Starling was crawling with murders and terrorists, a little kidnapping would be like a birthday party for people like that. 

Roy rushed into the foundry, glaring at Oliver, "Why didn't you tell me about Lonnie Machin?"

Oliver clenched his jaw, not exactly in the mood for an argument with his spitfire prodigy. "You're not ready."

"I am, Oliver! I'm ready! Where the hell is he? The news is saying that this guy is violent, off his meds and off his rocker. He attacked Laurel! I can help." Roy glanced around, his brows furrowing. "Where's Felicity? Has she found out where he is?"

Oliver shook his head, "Machin took Felicity."

Roy paled, his face falling and his eyes widening, "What?"

John sighed, "I'll fill you in Roy, but you're staying here."

"No, you don't get it." Roy argued, shoving a finger at Oliver. Oliver's eyes fell to the finger on his chest, and then lifted to Roy's angry eyes, something violent in his own. He was reaching his breaking point, and Roy was about to get the backlash of it. "I saw him."

Oliver's eyes narrowed, "Machin? You saw him?" Roy nodded. "Where?" Oliver growled.

Roy began to pace, "A week ago. In the Glades. He was asking about Steele Station."

"The abandoned train station?" John asked, standing up.

Roy nodded again. "He said he used to go there as a kid and he just wanted to see it. I-I didn't think much of it. I told him where it was and he was on his way. Then yesterday I see his face all over the news, saying he tried to hurt Laurel Lance."

Diggle glanced at Oliver, "The station's on the outskirts of town, out of the way."

"That's where he took her," Oliver was already grabbing his bow.

* * *

 The pain that she felt ran deeper than the cuts and bruises. She felt dazed. Every time she opened her eyes, she flinched, feeling the ache in every part of her body. She could feel the agitation on her skin from all of the dried blood, and she could see it on the ground below her. But she didn't feel like herself. She felt like she was in a dream. Blood loss probably did that to a person, keeping her from thinking straight. She had no idea how long it had been since someone had come up behind her in the foundry and put a cloth over her mouth. She couldn't even tell if it was day or night, she'd slipped in and out of consciousness so many times.

"Hey," she heard a voice whisper. She felt hands reaching up her arms, grabbing her wrists where they hung above her head.

"No," she groaned, "No, no more. Please."

"Shh," she felt the straps loosening, and her weight dropped. Her toes had barely been able to reach the floor, and her whole body was numb, unable to hold herself up. A pair of arms caught her. "I got you, I got you." 

As the blood returned to her limbs, Felicity cried out. Every inch of her body had a dull ache. All except one. As she collided with another body, she felt a sharp, piercing sting in her shoulder.

She screamed.

"Oliver," someone hissed.

Felicity opened her eyes and looked up at the person holding her. Roy. 

Roy was there. And she could just make out a green hooded figure running towards her. She could barely see him through her fatigue, or maybe her vision was blurred because of the blood that she felt all over her face. "He's gone," she heard Oliver's voice growling as he got closer, immediately reaching her and pulling her into his arms. He carefully lifted her, but the pain in her shoulder seared, and she cried out again. 

"She needs a hospital." Roy said, looking her over.

"Oliver," Felicity whispered.

She couldn't see his face under the mask. Most of it was shadowed by the hood, but she could see his eyes. They were eyes that she'd seen many times when she closed her own, both in unwanted daydreams and some very welcomed fantasies. And now they were looking down at her, "I have you, Felicity. You're safe."

" _Safe_ ," she sighed.

Felicity felt him start to move, and the pain in her shoulder pierced through her again. She knew that if she had any water left in her body, she'd be crying. Something was very wrong, and she could see it in the blue eyes looking down at her. With the last bit of energy she had, she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her eyes burned from the bright lights directly above her. She couldn't feel a damn thing. Somehow it was better than the constant pain she'd been in for who knew how long, though. 

The first thing she saw was Oliver, moving above her, an anxious look on his face. She lifted her hand to him, and he glanced down at it. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, getting closer so that his face was all she could see. His blue eyes came into focus again. He gripped her hand in both of his. "You're going to be okay, Felicity. We've got you. You're safe, okay? Do you hear me? I have you, Felicity. You're going to be okay." Felicity's eyes darted between his as she looked into his calming eyes, listening to the worried tone of his voice.

She wondered if he was trying to convince her or herself.

Her eyes felt so heavy, impossible to keep open. And his voice was so far away, even though she knew he was right beside her.

She couldn't comprehend what he was saying, but the longer that she fought to keep her eyes open, the more aware she became of where she was. When Oliver pulled back, she recognized that she was in the foundry, staring up at the bright overhead light. She blinked, trying to make sense of the panicked voices rushing around her. Diggle was there, holding bloody bandages and barking orders at Roy, who stood on the other side of her, looking down at her with pure fear on his face as he shouted back, "We need to do this now!"

Felicity followed Roy's gaze to her shoulder. She couldn't feel the pain, but she could see what had them all up in arms.

Lonnie's voice flashed through her mind. 

_Making new memories._

Felicity gasped, trying to understand the bizarre sight of her shoulder, covered in blood with a giant piece of metal sticking out of it.

Everything snapped into focus. She tried to sit up, feeling like the image couldn't be real. It didn't  _feel_  like it was happening. She felt numb. Could that really be her body? Her shoulder?

"Felicity." She barely registered Oliver's voice, but she saw his hands flying out to hold her down. "You need to stay still. We need to take care of this. You're going to be okay, okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Felicity stared with wide eyes, finally registering that it was a railroad spike. Lonnie had stabbed her with a railroad spike. She had no recollection of that happening, so it felt surreal to be looking at the thing, protruding from her shoulder. It was like she was watching a horror movie in 4D, except her increasing heart rate reminded her that it was real.

"How is she awake right now?" She heard Oliver hiss.

She stared down at her shoulder. _Her_  shoulder. "Oh my god," she began to panic. "Oh  my god," she breathed, barely audible even to her own ears. "Get it out! Get it out! You have to- you have to get out- get it out! You have-"

"Felicity," Oliver mumbled, his mouth outside her ear, his hands gripping her face, turning it away from her shoulder. She looked up at the ceiling, feeling Oliver's warm cheek pressed against hers. It was the only thing she could feel. They must have given her something, because her entire shoulder was numb. Her whole  _body_  felt numb. "You're okay. Breathe. Just breathe."

She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard Diggle and Roy getting ready to pull the spike out.

She tried to focus on Oliver's voice as he murmured in her ear, his grip on her tightening to keep her still on the table. "I've got you, you're okay. You're safe, Felicity. I'm right here. Listen to my voice, I'm right here."

"Done!" Diggle yelled.

Felicity opened her eyes, turning her head to look down at her shoulder. Roy was pressing white bandages against her skin, trying to stop the bleeding, and Diggle was inspecting the spike, but she wasn't sure what he was looking for. 

She turned her face back to Oliver, where he still had his nose nestled in her blood crusted hair. She felt his lips slide against her ear, and he released a breath of relief. "Anything on it?"

"I'm not seeing anything, but I'm going to call Sara. She can come do some tests to make sure it's not laced with anything."

Oliver still held her face, his fingers stroking her, and she suddenly felt extremely tired. She stared up at Oliver, watching him as he listened to John.

"The bleeding's slowing down." Roy mumbled.

Oliver sighed again, looking down to meet her gaze. He looked as relieved as she felt.

As his eyes met hers, she could feel the panic draining out of him.

As if he was giving in to an impulse, he closed his eyes, his face dropping to hers. Oliver rested his forehead against hers, exhaling. She closed her eyes, listening to the calming sound of his breathing. A few seconds later, she was asleep.

* * *

Typing with an injured shoulder was more frustrating than she would have thought, if she wasn't about to bash her head against her keyboard while trying to do it. Oliver was hovering behind her, only making it even more annoying. He was pacing, and sighing. Her foot started to tap, her fingers cramping, but neither of them spoke. She kept quiet for about an hour before she was ready to scream. 

"Let me help." Oliver finally whispered, coming up behind her and resting his hands on the back of the couch.

"No," she snapped, turning around to look up at him. To glare.

She was irritated that she couldn't type. She was irritated that her whole body felt wrong, like it wasn't hers anymore. But most of all, she was irritated that Lonnie Machin was still out there.

And since he was, she couldn't go home. She couldn't curl up in her bed or take a long bath with her favorite candles. Instead, she had to hide out in John's apartment, since the foundry was obviously compromised. He'd found her there. Someone had taken her, and that made it a very likely possibility that Machin knew she worked with the Arrow. It was possible that he even knew who Oliver was, so that made her even more angry.

Anyone who knew Oliver's secret was a threat, especially when they were psychotic stalkers.

"Felicity," Oliver said gently, his hand sliding over hers, stopping the attack on her keyboard. "Let me help."

Felicity sighed, "What are you going to do, Oliver?" she argued, "Until we find him, there's not much helping that  _you_  can do."

Oliver huffed, walking around the couch until he was in front of her. He knelt down so that she was looking down at him. "I can be here for you." He whispered.

She shook her head, "I don't need a heart-to-heart talk right now Oliver. I need revenge."

"Felicity, take it from someone who knows...revenge is never the right way."

"Maybe not," she whispered, her voice vacant of any feeling. "But sometimes it's the only way."

"Felicity..."

"Machin left me with eight scars the first time he attacked me." She said, her eyes cold and trained on his. "This time, he left me with twice as many. I'm not going to give him even the slightest chance of doing that again."

_No, I'm going to kill you myself, Lonnie._

_Pinky swear?_

Oliver's eyes inspected her, and she rolled hers at him. She trusted Oliver. She'd even call them friends. But it did not warrant the way he'd been hovering around her over the past twenty four hours. He watched her like a hawk, never leaving her side like he was waiting for her to have a mental breakdown. And what would he do about it? She was doing her best to keep it together, partly just to spite him, but she definitely was not used to him being so vigilant of her.

"You don't have to do this alone, Felicity." Oliver whispered, his eyes still looking up at her face.

She'd known him for two years, and he'd never been the attentive type. Not to her, at least. Most of the time she wondered if he even noticed when she was there. Sometimes she was sure that he didn't see her at all. There was always someone else that had his attention; McKenna, Helena, a Lance sister, or heaven forbid Isabel Rochev. Now all of a sudden he wanted her to pour out her soul to him? He kept himself guarded the majority of their time together, but he expected her to open up to him?

"Machin is my fight," She said coldly, "he is  _not_  yours."

"Felicity, your fights...are my fights."

"No, Oliver.  _Yours_  are  _mine_. Not the other way around."

"Why not?" He mumbled, his brow furrowing.

Felicity sighed, rubbing her temples. Then she set her computer aside, clumsily trying to scoot forward so that she could stand up.

Oliver stood, holding out his hand for her.

He let go of her as soon as she was on her feet, crossing his arms. "How many times have you helped me, Felicity? How many times have you... _saved_  me? Why won't you let me do the same for you? Machin...after what he did to you, I'm not going to take any risks. I'll get him and he'll never see outside the walls of a padded cell again."

She watched him for a moment, knowing that he meant what he said. But it just wasn't about that for her. It wasn't just about putting Lonnie behind bars.

She had every faith in Oliver, she knew that he was perfectly capable of taking down Lonnie Machin. That was the problem.

She wanted to kill him.

As the drugs slowly passed from her system, and she began to feel hydrated again, she had felt herself start to think clearly. She started to remember those flashes from Machin's torture. And she resolved, as she'd looked at that spike they'd had to pull from her shoulder, that she wanted to kill him.

She was  _going_  to kill him.

John, Oliver, and Roy would all try to stop her, so she knew she had to be smart about it if she hoped to evade two vigilantes and a soldier, especially the helicopter one that refused to take his eyes off of her.

"I'm going to get some rest," she whispered.

Oliver stared at her like he still had a million things that he wanted to say, and she stared back, not sure what she was waiting for. He wouldn't say them. He finally nodded, whispering an "okay" before he turned away. 

Felicity padded down the hallway to John's room that he was graciously letting her borrow. After the hours she'd spent hanging from a wire cable in an abandoned train station, a mattress under her back had felt incredible. Even if it wasn't her own.

If Machin wanted her, she knew that he'd eventually get her. The thought continued to run through her mind. He would find her if she didn't find him first. It filled her with fear, but also a hatred that she'd never felt before. It was something deeper and scarier than six years ago. She put it all on him this time. She was uncomfortable in her own skin, but she knew that none of it was her fault. She'd come to terms with that a long time ago. She did nothing to allow a stalker into her life. Every ache in her body fueled something inside of her, something dark, and every ounce of energy that it created was aimed at Lonnie Machin. 

He'd waited for six years since their last encounter, and his obsession had only grown. Now she felt obsessed. She couldn't think of anything else. His face came to her mind every time she closed her eyes. Every time she moved, one of her scars or bruises protested, and it was a persistent reminder of how much she hated him. Felicity felt haunted by a man who could still hurt her. She had to make it stop.

She had to kill him. It was the only way.

He was a creature of habit, clinging to her in the most twisted, compulsive way. He was sick, and he would never stop. He'd torment her for the rest of her life if she didn't end it. That was the one thing that she knew. The one thing that she could feel in her bones.

He was a creature of habit, and he would never stop.

_He was a creature of habit._

Felicity tried to slap her own forehead before the pain in her shoulder made her wince. "Of course," she whispered to herself.

Oliver, John, and Roy had gone back to the train station and sworn that Lonnie was long gone. Just like the police had sworn that he had skipped town six years ago.

She felt her hands begin to shake as her mind raced.

She knew she'd find him waiting for her the same way she'd found him in her house in college. It was all the same. His redo.

She rushed over to her bag, pulling off her pajamas and changing into the first pair of pants she touched. Then she quickly zipped up a hoodie, cringing as she got it over her sling. Her sneakers came next, and then she stopped to look in the mirror. She took a deep breath as she looked at herself. She barely recognized the girl in the mirror, so when she gave a slight nod, it felt like whoever she had been, whoever she had lost when Lonnie had taken her, was giving her the permission to do what she needed to do.

Quietly creeping down the hall, Felicity glanced into the living room. John was back, opening the cartons of takeout he'd picked up for dinner. "Is Felicity okay?" He asked, looking over at Oliver who stood in front of the window, staring out at the street.

"I don't know," Oliver said lowly, "She won't talk to me."

John laughed once, shaking his head. "If only you knew how many times she's said that to me about you." Oliver threw a glare over his shoulder, sighing as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "Why don't you go tell her the food's here, I'm sure she's starving. And be her  _friend_ , Oliver. Not a mentor in the art of coping with pain."

Oliver pulled his hands away from his face, "No, no. I want to let her sleep for a while. I'll...I'll make her something when she wakes up." Felicity bit her lip, feeling her heart clench as she listened, as she saw the exhausted and lost look on Oliver's face.

She slowly backed away, backtracking to Diggle's room. "All right ex-military man." She said to herself, shaking out her hands as she silently closed the door behind her. She opened the nightstand and pulled out his gun. She knew that a man like John would keep one close, and it was the first thing she'd looked for when she'd gotten to his place. Tucking it into her waistband, she headed for the window. If Oliver was still looking outside, she knew that he might see her.

Throwing her legs over the edge of the wall, she took a deep breath, letting her aching muscles settle after the move. 

Slipping outside, she slowly dropped to the ground. She crouched behind a bush and glanced inside, checking to see if Oliver was still watching the street. She saw that he was turned around, talking to John, and she made a run for it. She didn't stop until she reached the end of the street. Her legs screamed, her whole core was screaming, but she didn't stop until John's house was out of view.

Looking behind her, she half expected to see Oliver and John running down the street after her. She caught her breath, letting out a quiet groan that somehow made the pain feel a little better. She assumed she had at least a couple of hours before they'd be looking for her. She took a deep breath, pulling out her phone so she could call for a cab.

It was about an hour to Boston, and she used the time to try to get her hands to stop shaking.

It wouldn't end well if she missed her shot.

John had taken her to the shooting range a couple of times, but she wouldn't exactly call herself  _accurate,_ especially at a distance. She'd have to get close to Machin to take the shot, and she refused to let him see her hand shaking. The sling would be another obstacle but luckily, if you could even call it lucky, he hadn't driven the spike into her left shoulder. John had taught her how to aim a gun with her left hand, so at least she had that. 

When they finally reached the dark house, she squeezed her fist. She hadn't been back to Boston in six years, and she'd tried to block every inch of that apartment from her memory. Living in it after the attack proved to be impossible. And she'd loved her space. Another thing that Machin had taken from her. Felicity inhaled and let her breath out slowly. "Uh...lady...you gonna get out?"

Felicity nodded, tossing a few bills over the seat. She got out and closed the door quietly. She had no idea who lived in the apartment now, or if they knew what had happened there. The building belonged to MIT, but the university probably did not boast about the attack to unsuspecting underclassmen looking for an apartment. 

Approaching slowly, Felicity hoped that whoever lived there now was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Far away. Because she could feel that Lonnie was in there, and it put a knot in her stomach to wonder what he'd done with the new tenants. 

She crouched down to look inside, trying to figure out a strategy. The whole space was unfamiliar; the furniture was rearranged and different. The walls were a different color, the carpet that she'd bled out on was exchanged for hardwood floors. She could see the door of the closet she'd hidden in, leading from the living room to the kitchen. And then she saw his shadow, pacing near the hallway. Six years ago, he'd been hiding in her bedroom when she came home, but he'd attacked her in the living room after chasing her through the first floor of the apartment. 

Bile was rising in her throat, and she tried to relax. He didn't know she was here yet and she could tell that he was near the kitchen. She just had to find a way inside without him noticing. Then maybe she'd be able to sneak up on him.

Felicity felt a hand on her shoulder and she flipped around, a scream about to escape her throat when Roy's hand flew over her mouth. He waited until recognition crossed her face before he removed his hand. It took her an extra second of processing to recognize not just him, but the red mask and hood.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed.

Felicity huffed, catching her breath. "What do you think?"

"You think Machin is here? Why did you sneak out of Diggle's house? Why didn't you tell Oliver?"

She narrowed her eyes, "What are  _you_  doing here?"

Roy shrugged, "Oliver had me checking out the neighborhood for Machin. I saw you sneak out. I followed you."

Felicity turned to look back through the window. She held her breath when she noticed Machin had moved to the living room. He was pacing there now, becoming agitated as his eyes flickered to the spot on the floor where he'd pinned her down all those years ago. Her eyes narrowed as they trained on him.

Apparently he remembered it as vividly as she did.

Felicity leaned forward as if she was ready to pounce, but Roy grabbed her, "You are not going in there." He hissed.

"Yes, I am." She fired back.

Roy leveled her with a glare, "I called Oliver. He'll be here any minute, Felicity, and we can bring him in," he whispered, his eyes shifting to look up at Lonnie.

Felicity pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, Roy." She said, balling her hand into a fist and jerking it towards his face as hard as she could. 

Her fist throbbed, and she made a face as she shook it out. Roy fell back, making a sound of both surprise and pain. She gave him one more glance, but he was already recovering. As soon as Roy collected himself, he'd prevent her from going inside. As soon as Oliver got there, he'd stop her too. She didn't have time.

So much for finding a way inside without Machin noticing.

Felicity stood up and ran for the door, swinging it open loudly. "Lonnie!" She yelled, her voice shaking. 

She headed straight for the living room, and Lonnie's eyes were on her as she stepped in. He looked relieved. Happy. "Felicity," he sighed. "I was so worried. Did you get away from the Arrow? I wasn't sure I'd see you again." He laughed, "you have no idea how happy I am that you found your way home."

Felicity cocked her head to the side, knowing that his delusions ran deep. She cleared her throat, "well," she choked, "are you going to stay over there, or are you going to come say hello?" She asked. She needed him to get closer.

Everything he'd put her through flashed through her mind as he smiled, slowly stepping towards her.

She twisted her arm behind her back, letting her fingers graze the gun. "I knew you'd come back," he said. Felicity couldn't even blink as she stared at him, picturing his face from years ago as he'd sat on top of her, digging that knife deeper and deeper into her stomach.

She could still hear his laughter pairing with her screams. 

She couldn't hear or see anything but him. She couldn't feel anything but the pain and hatred that coursed through her.

Slowly, she slipped the gun out of her waistband, trying to decide exactly how close he needed to get in order to make the shot. She didn't want him even one step closer to her than he had to be. Felicity held the gun in front of her, aiming it at his head and holding her breath. Lonnie froze, surprised for the briefest moment before he smiled. "Are you going to hurt me, Felicity? Like I hurt you?" His smile twisted, taking another step closer.

Her eyes watered, her hand shaking as she took a step back, keeping the gun trained on him.

Felicity was so focused on Lonnie, she didn't notice Roy coming up behind her, didn't see him until he was tackling Machin to the ground. She blinked, the gun hanging in her hand. When Lonnie recovered and pinned Roy to the ground, she felt a jolt, and she raised the gun again on instinct. They rolled around on the floor, and Felicity tried to force her brain to catch up, to focus.

She just felt tired.

As the two traded punches, Felicity tried to take aim at Lonnie, but they were constantly moving, and no matter how much she hated him, the remaining sanity she had left stopped her from shooting, afraid of hitting Roy by accident. She'd told herself over and over that she'd do anything to get revenge on Lonnie. But risking Roy's life? No. It was just Machin. Just one person who deserved to die for everything he'd done. As her mind raced, exhausted as she tried figure out how to guarantee that only Lonnie would get hurt, he rolled on top of Roy.

"No!" she screamed as he delivered a few hard blows to Roy's face. 

"Felicity," Roy mumbled, looking at her with blood dripping from his mouth. "Don't." He pleaded.

Lonnie squealed with enjoyment. "Oh, you brought a gun  _and_  a vigilante! And I thought it wasn't possible to love you more than I already do. Will you shoot me with that, Felicity?" He asked, not sounding the least bit terrified. He sounded  _excited_.

_No, I'm going to kill you myself, Lonnie._

_Pinky swear?_

He enjoyed being in pain as much as he got off on inflicting it. Machin crawled off of Roy, standing up. Her eyes flickered to her friend. He was still breathing. Felicity felt light headed. She felt tired from all of it, just wanting it to be over.

Then Machin turned his gaze back to her. 

Her hand shook when she tried to steady it. She could see him beyond the black shine of the gun, and her finger itched to pull the trigger. "Stay where you are," she warned, her voice breaking.

Lonnie smirked, rubbing his hands together and continuing his slow walk towards her. "Can you do it, Felicity? Can you pull the trigger?" She stared at him, and he didn't stop until he was a few feet away from her. He dropped to his knees in front of her, raising his hands, and Felicity felt drained. This was a game to him. Lonnie leaned forward until the barrel of it was pressed to his temple. "Do it," he said, looking up at her from beneath the gun. "Shoot, Felicity."

"Felicity!"

She let out a small cry at the sound of Oliver's voice. He must have come in through the back door, sneaking in like she'd planned on doing. She could see him behind Machin, dressed in his leathers but she couldn't look away from the eyes that had haunted her for years. "Felicity," Oliver whispered now, stepping closer, his breath catching. She imagined that this must be quite the sight; Machin on his knees, toying with his own life as Felicity tried to muster up the courage to take it away.

This was her nightmare, her devil, her demon, and she couldn't see anything else.

Oliver glanced down at Roy, checking on him, and then he moved closer, slowly. He didn't bother looking at Machin, his eyes were only focused on Felicity. He stopped once he was beside her, "Hey," he whispered, "don't do this." She stiffened as he tried to take another step, clenching her jaw and gripping the gun tighter. Oliver froze.

Felicity blinked, tears falling over her cheeks, straightening her arm. Lonnie pushed his head against the barrel of the gun, and Felicity pushed back. "You deserve this." She hissed through her teeth.

"Felicity," Oliver said, "You're right. He does. You have no idea how many different ways I've thought of killing this man ever since I found out what he did to you six years ago...ever since he took you last night. But  _you_  don't deserve this." He said, pleading with her. She choked, more tears falling.

"I have to, Oliver. There's no other way to make this go away."

"Listen to me," he whispered, stepping closer. "It doesn't work like that. It doesn't fill that emptiness you're feeling. The pain will still be there after you pull the trigger, Felicity. Killing him won't make it any better. It won't take the weight off your chest, it will only make it heavier. Trust me. You were the one who told me that there's  _always_  another way. There is, Felicity. I promise, this is not the only choice that you have."

Her hand was getting heavier with the weight of the gun, her arm going numb. But she couldn't take her eyes from Lonnie, who sat quietly, his eyes shifting between the two of them. He was watching them as if he was watching a movie in the theater, even though it was his life at stake. 

He looked entertained, waiting to see if the villain was going to die at the end.

Oliver seemed to notice, too. "He's sick, Felicity." He murmured.

"He's a monster." She spat back.

"Then don't let yourself become what he is."

Felicity 's hand shook as she held the gun against Lonnie's forehead. "He took everything from me. He made my life a nightmare for  _six_   _years_." She couldn't take her eyes off of Machin's. "You disgusting," she said lowly, her voice barely above a whisper, "heartless, worthless bastard."

"Felicity," Oliver said quietly, his voice just outside her ear. "I  _promise..._ I will never let him hurt you again. I will never let him anywhere near you...ever,  _ever_  again." She sighed, her eyes burning with tears.

"You won't shoot me," Lonnie whispered, his voice tainted with disappointment as he watched Oliver.

For some reason, seeing Lonnie looking at Oliver like that was unnerving to her.

"You don't know me." Felicity said, a new wave of anger sweeping through her. She shoved the gun harder against his skull. "You never did. I'm not the terrified girl that you chased around the house that night. I'm not even the girl that you strung up on that cable wire and maimed, begging you to stop. She's  _gone_." Felicity said through her teeth. 

Machin stared up at her in pure amazement.

"You took everything from me," she continued. "And I want to take everything from you. I want... to  _kill_  you." Felicity cocked the gun, pulling on the piece that John had taught her to, taking a deep breath. 

"Felicity!" Oliver pleaded. "Stop. Killing him won't change that feeling inside of you, it will only make it worse! If you pull that trigger, it's over. You won't come back from that."

"I hate you," she seethed, staring down at Machin, torn between her anger for him and the feelings that Oliver was stirring. "I  _hate_  you."

"He's not worth it, Felicity." Oliver stepped closer, his voice begging her, "He's not worth  _your_  life."

Oliver's hand steadied her shaking one, and Felicity felt the warmth of his palm all the way to her core. She hadn't noticed him stepping closer, but she didn't fight him. Felicity sighed, closing her eyes and feeling completely exhausted. He kept his hand over hers, but he didn't make a move to take the gun away even though she knew that he definitely could have by now. Oliver could have unarmed her twelve times by now. But he didn't. He was giving her the choice, begging her to make the right one, but letting it be hers.

With a deep sigh, she understood.

Oliver knew that if she ever wanted to move past this, she had to  _choose_  not to kill Lonnie Machin. She had the power, and she had to decide to keep it instead of letting Machin take it away from her again.

Felicity let the gun go, turning quickly and burying her face in Oliver's chest.

Oliver took control of it easily, and before Lonnie could make a move or say a word, he used it to hit him in the face. Blood spurted from Machin's mouth as his head reacted to the blow. And then he was on his back, unconscious. Oliver dropped the gun, kicking it a few feet away. Then both of his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight and stroking her hair. She ignored the pain as his lips grazed her hair and he whispered to her, "it's okay, it's okay."

"Roy," she mumbled back. Pulling away from him, she ran over to check on her friend. Felicity smoothed her hands over his face and shoulders, noting that he was breathing steadily, just knocked out. She let out a deep sigh, not having the energy to wonder what she would have done if Roy had gotten killed because of her. She leaned back on her legs, looking up at Oliver. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Oliver shook his head, pulling her to her feet. "You didn't do it, Felicity. That's all that matters."

Felicity blinked quickly, tightening her fist on his shirt and glancing at Lonnie. "I wanted to. I think I might have if you-"

"You didn't." He said again. "And now he's going to go away, and you and I are going to make sure that he stays that way...away."

Felicity nodded. "Thank you, Oliver...for coming, and for saying all of that." She said, gesturing but unable to look at the spot that she'd held Lonnie at gunpoint.

"I will never let him, or anyone, hurt you. You know that, right?"

Oliver ran his thumb over her cheek, his breath catching when she turned her face to lean into his touch. Her gaze shifted between his eyes, trying to make sense of the unreadable expression behind them. He'd never looked at her so fully, as if he couldn't see anything or anyone else.

The way he was looking at her... _clarity_  came to her mind as she watched his eyes soften.

He looked like he'd finally solved one of life's puzzles.

Oliver placed his hand against her neck, gently warming her skin and it felt amazing. She stared up into his eyes, her free hand coming up to grasp his forearm. "Do you understand?" Felicity inhaled sharply as his eyebrows furrowed and he took a step closer, his eyes asking her.

He somehow managed make  _do you understand_  sound a lot like  _I love you_.


End file.
